


Taste Test (They Were Delicious)

by marywhale



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Embedded Images, F/M, Food, M/M, Multimedia, Post-Finale, Spoilers for Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, Team Bonding, Temporary Character Death, taako makes friends by cooking them food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 14:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12300816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marywhale/pseuds/marywhale
Summary: Taako and food, as intertwined as any threads knit by Istus.(Snapshots of recipes collected over a century.)





	Taste Test (They Were Delicious)

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't know why I decided to do this to myself, but I got sick and it's a long weekend and I had the time to spend hours trying to edit together a passable recipe book. The recipes featured in the images in this fic are available in non-image format on my tumblr, along with source credit for recipes that aren't original. You can find them [here, on my tumblr](http://marywhal.tumblr.com/post/166190607164/taste-test-they-were-delicious-recipes-and).
> 
> I hope you enjoy. If you do, please leave comments and kudos!

Lup makes it nearly fifteen cycles before she dies for the first time. It’s stupid. Totally avoidable. Not even one of the flashy deaths Magnus started to rack up before Davenport put his foot down and chewed him out in front of everyone for the way he kept throwing his life away.

They’re on a planet that’s completely iced over, trudging through a blizzard in search of the light. It’s nearly impossible to see, a thick white curtain of snow falling constantly from the sky. Taako doesn’t notice Lup’s not beside him anymore. The wind is so loud and strong it drowns out most other sounds. He, Lup, and Magnus are on a scouting mission. Magnus because he’s good at close-range fighting and they don’t know what might be waiting in the storm; Lup because her specialization is evocation, good for keeping warm and seeing where they’re going; Taako because he’s also a fucking wizard and wasn’t about to let Lup wade through the storm without him. They’ve all got their stones of farspeech turned on so they can keep in touch, but they’re trying to keep close.

Taako’s daydreaming about heading back to the ship and warming up when his stone flickers to life.

“Fuck,” Lup says. She sounds strange. There’s something wet rattling in her chest when she breaths out over the line. “Sorry, boys.”

Taako turns to his left, where Lup should be, but isn’t, and his heart seizes in his chest. “Lup, where are you?”

“I, uh, found some ice caves,” she says. “Be careful where you step. They’re underground. A whole network, I think.”

Taako turns towards where he last remembers seeing Lup and manages a step before Magnus grabs his shoulder. “Lup, are you okay?” Magnus asks. “Can you levitate out? Or send us up a flare so we can come and get you?”

There’s a long silence.

“Lup?” Taako’s hands are trembling at his sides, clenched into fists inside his gloves.

“I’m here,” Lup says. “Just thinking. It... doesn’t look good. My, uh… fuck. My ribs.” Lup hisses in a painful breath. “Pretty sure I can see bone.”

“ _Lup_.”

“Taako, if you do something stupid the first thing I’m going to do next cycle is punch you,” Lup says. “Right in the fucking face. You know that, right? Magnus, don’t let Taako do anything stupid. I’m assigning him to you. Guess that means you’re sticking out the full year this time.”

“You’re sticking it out too, Lup,” Magnus says. His hand tightens on Taako’s shoulder and he plays with his stone for a moment, adjusting the frequency. “Merle? Can you hear me? Lup fell into an ice cave and there’s something wrong with her ribs. I think it’s bad.”

“Well, fuck,” Merle says.

Taako barks out a short, brittle laugh, leaning closer to Magnus so he can speak into the stone too. “That’s what she said.”

“Just how fucked are her ribs?” Merle asks. “Can you get her out of there? You boys trapped too?”

“We’re not in the cave with her. It’s underground. She fell,” Magnus says. Taako’s glad he’s the one doing all the talking. Taako doesn’t know what he’d say, other than to demand everyone come and pick her up. Taako’s not leaving Lup to die alone, in a cold cave.

“I guess I better get my boots on,” Merle says. “I’ll get Barry to come with me. You two come up with a way for us to find you in the storm.”

Magnus glances at Taako. “We’ll think of something,” he promises. “I’m sure Taako’s got a spell.”

Taako probably does have a spell, but right now he can’t think of one. Lup’s been quiet for too long. “Lup,” he says, into his own stone. “Lup, Merle and Barry are coming. You just have to hold on a bit, okay?”

Lup hums on the other end of the stone. “Taako, I love you,” she says. “But fuck that. This isn’t—this is some bad shit. I’ll see you in a few months, okay? It’ll be fine.”

There’s an explosion from deeper down and further back than Taako expected and then the ground shifts under their feet, buckling and collapsing in on itself. Taako doesn’t realize he dived towards the explosion until he registers Magnus’s arms around his waist, hauling him back as he kicks and struggles to get free. Magnus is saying something about keeping calm and going back to the ship. He’s speaking to someone on his stone of farspeech again, and Taako’s going to scratch Magnus’s fucking eyes out if he doesn’t let go so Taako can _get to his sister_ because this—

Something hits him on the head and the world goes black.

Taako wakes up and his head hurts. Merle looms overhead, his eyes sad, and presses a palm to his forehead.

Taako closes his eyes and lets himself fall into a full, natural sleep.

He still wakes up feeling empty. Lup’s gone. Dead. Maybe it’s temporary, but it still _aches_ . It still sits heavy in his chest and doesn’t let him think about anything else. Taako doesn’t cry, because it would be stupid to cry over this when he _knows_ Lup’s coming back, but his eyes feel hot with the possibility of tears.

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe through the pain, but it feels impossible. Like there’s something fucked up with his ribs too, a phantom ache mirroring whatever injury it was that Lup didn’t think she’d survive. Taako curls up and keep his eyes shut until he sleeps again and he doesn’t get up. He keeps not going up.

There’s someone with him whenever he wakes. Taako ignores them, for the most part. The crew has pulled an armchair from the shared living space into his room, so they must be planning on doing this for a while.

They all have their own ways of keeping him company. Merle hums bad music to himself and looks after his little bonsai tree. Davenport plays solitaire. Magnus is the only one who foregoes the chair. He sits on the bed beside Taako, and Taako would never admit it, but Magnus’s physical presence is nice. It’s grounding.

Barry sits in the chair and works. He brings in coffee and snacks and goes over his notes, talking to himself sometimes. Taako’s good with that. Barry’s the person acting the most normal. He may be doing his work in a weird, new place, but it’s the kind of stuff he’d be doing if Taako wasn’t like this. If Lup were still alive.

Lucretia reads to Taako. That’s what eventually drives him out of bed. He can’t take another minute of the novel she chose. It’s one that was popular on last cycle’s world, a bestseller and critical hit, but it’s raunchy. Every other scene seems to be at least two of the main characters fucking and Taako can’t take having _Lucretia_ , of all people, read him a dirty novel.

She’s about a third of the way through the book when he reaches his limit and sits up. She stops with a start.

“No,” Taako says, frowning at her. “Don’t subject me to another word about Jeremy’s throbbing hardness. I could write better porn than this.”

Lucretia beams at Taako and closes the book. “Okay,” she agrees. “I'll stop if you get out of bed. Does this mean we’re going to get a Taako original novel? I’ll be your editor.”

Later, Lucretia does actually give him one of her notebooks.

Once he’s up, Taako feels restless all the time, can’t stand the idea of going back to bed for more than a few hours of meditation. He thinks about writing his own porno and draws a couple dicks on the inside cover of Lucretia’s notebook. He carries it around with him as he roams the Starblaster in the middle of the night, while the rest of the crew sleeps.

One night, around three in the morning, Taako is spreading peanut butters transmuted from ketchup on a piece of toast when he gets a craving for peanut butter cookie studied with fantasy M&Ms, warm from the oven—one of Lup’s favourite foods. Even if Lup’s not around, eating her favourite cookies sounds… good. Comforting. Motivation for her not to fucking die in the upcoming year, to earn a chance to have him bake them for her again.

So Taako starts baking, despite the late/early hour, and slowly the smell of peanut butter and chocolate and sugar rouses the rest of the crew from their beds.

They’re _very_ good cookies.

As Magnus and Barry try to determine which cookies have the most chocolate in them and Davenport pours everyone milk, Taako flips open his notebook and steals Lucretia’s pen to write out the recipe.

 

 

 

The plane that welcomes them on their twenty-fourth cycle is almost entirely covered by ocean and Taako has brief hopes for another beach year.

The mermaids and the pirates put a damper on that _pretty_ quickly.

Mermaids, by all rights, _should_ be awesome. If you overlook the mouth full of razor-sharp fangs and their spindly, webbed fingers and green-grey skin, they’re kind of ugly-hot.

They drag Magnus to his death two days after they arrive.

Barry lasts a week longer than Magnus, at which point they realize mermaid voices have a thrall over humans, but the non-human crew members aren't affected. They spent the next few weeks trying to figure out how to keep Lucretia safe. They don’t do a very good job. Lucretia forgets her earplugs when she wakes up one morning and dives off the side of the Starblaster before noon. She’s definitely going to be mad about when everything restarts because Taako, Lup and Merle aren’t very good at note taking. Davenport tries, but he also has the ship to steer, so. There’re other things on his mind. Like the pirates.

The pirates, also, should be cool. Taako had had high hopes for the pirates, even after the mermaid shit went down, but really he should have learned not to hope for things when arriving in a new plane by now. The pirates are jerks who don't bathe and get mad at you for sneaking on board their ship looking to steal treasure. Taako had assumed, when he heard crew members bragging about a glowing relic, that the ship had the light. It did not. It had some gems poorly enchanted to glow in the dark.

Taako, his hair blowing wildly around his head, his hands bound in rope enchanted to suppress his magic, with a sword poking his back, can definitively say pirates are _not cool_.

“Listen,” he says, twisting to look at the stout dwarf behind him. “I’m sure we can work something out. Don’t you think a wizard on your ship would come in handy?”

“Wizards are bad luck on ships,” the dwarf says, lips curling in disgust. “Don’t try to seduce me, elf.”

Taako straightens where he stands and gives the dwarf an offended look. “Don’t flatter yourself, thug. That’s one-hundo percent for _sure_ not what’s happening here.”

That earns him a prod in the back from the sword.

“Let’s see you walk the plank,” the dwarf barks. “See how smart your mouth is then.”

Dying so far hasn’t taught Taako any essential life lessons. Lup really hates when he goes without her, but it doesn’t seem like he’s got many options here. He rolls his eyes and turns back to the plank, stepping up onto it and trying not to look down at the long, long drop to the water. He has a feeling there are mermaids below him. Taako really hopes he drowns before he gets eaten. Speaking of.

“I can’t wait for your to get vored,” Taako says, taking a step closer to the water. “Or maybe you’ll get burned up first. Kind of depends on if my sister gets her hands on you.”

He turns and flashes the dwarf a nasty grin, all teeth and fury. “I hope however you go fucking _sucks_ ,” he says, and then steps back, off the plank.

Taako plunges down, but doesn’t hit the water. A massive, red hand catches him in mid-air and he starts laughing even before Lup deposits him on the deck of the Starblaster, suddenly visible as Davenport drops the illusion cloaking it.

“Took you long enough to jump,” Lup says, tugging Taako into a tight hug. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Just giving you extra time so I didn’t get my hair wet,” Taako lies, because he’d been sure he was about to die before Lup caught him.

Merle comes up behind him, hacking at the rope around his wrists with a knife. “Sure you were,” he says. “Any useful information to pass on?”

“Yeah, they hate magic and the captain wants to fuck me.” Taako rubs his rope-burned wrists once they’re free, turning to look at the ship in the water below them. He flexes his fingers and then raises his hand and casts Magic Missile. All three darts hit the ship and the crew starts scrambling, yelling insults that are caught in the wind and blown away before they reach the Starblaster. “And I’m still not a very forgiving person.”

Taako is grateful, though. Grateful that Davenport and Merle would come back for him—because of course Lup would—grateful that they hadn’t just left him to die on the ship, since he’d just re-appear when things reset anyway. He’s especially grateful that he’ll never experience the feeling of cold, sharp mermaid fingers digging into his ribs and pulling him apart.

They spend most of the year in the air, cruising over the sea and landing only when they have to. They can’t find the light, although Taako’s not sure there’s anything worth saving here anyway. He and Merle fish off the side of the ship to kill time. Davenport teaches him and Lup how to fly the Starblaster because it’s something they should all know how to do, just in case. It’s never been just the four of them before, but it’s kind of nice. Not the awful year Taako thought it would be.

Privately, Lup and Taako start referring to cycle twenty-four not as Pirate Year or Water World, but as the Dad Year.

The day before the Hunger arrives, Davenport lands the ship on a deserted island. Taako and Merle catch little clawed shellfish that taste almost like shrimp. Lup tries and fails to snatch fish from the water just using magic. Davenport digs pink-shelled mollusks out of the sand and they work together to pry them open and extract the tender meat inside. Taako takes it all and makes something simple, just pasta with a creamy white-wine sauce using pasta from their dry store.

Davenport declares it the best thing Taako’s ever made and pats him on the back before he goes off to play two-person euchre with Merle.

Taako smiles to himself, ridiculously pleased, and levitates the dishes to the sink.

Lup catches the stack of plates and sticks her tongue out at him as she starts scrubbing. “Oh Taako, your pasta was _so_ good. You’re not a suck up at all.”

Taako laughs and bumps his hip against Lup’s as he picks up a cloth to help dry their dishes. “You’re just jealous that _I’m_ Dadenport’s favourite.”

“Dadenport doesn’t play _favourites_.”

That night, Taako pulls a Lucretia and writes the recipe down twice: once in his book and once in Lucretia’s.

 

 

 

They’ve done some pretty fucking bizarre things before. Taako’s reached a point where he thinks he can’t be surprised anymore. It probably happened  when he got kidnapped by pirates. Maybe before that, when they spent a year in a plane almost entirely made of jello.

This takes the cake.

“It’s… a prize,” Magnus repeats, staring at the mayor of the village where the light fell.

The mayor, a smiling halfling woman with a pleasant, round face, nods. “The village fête is always a big occasion. When the light fell in the center of town, we knew it was the perfect thing.”

Taako and Lup exchange a glance. Village fêtes mean cakes and pies and quiches. They’ve got this thing in the fucking bag.

“What, uh, what kind of contest is the light a prize for?” Magnus asks, glancing back at Taako, clearly having the same thought he and Lup are.

“Well, the most prestigious one, of course,” the mayor says. “You’re welcome to enter, but the fête is in three months. I’m not sure you’ll have time to properly prepare. Most of our entrances have been cultivating their entries all year. The vegetable contest is very competitive.”

“Sorry.” Taako holds up a hand. “Did you say _vegetable_ contest?”

“Well, yes,” she says. “We’re a rural community, dear. Everyone likes to show off their skills.”

Taako can probably just enlarge a vegetable they buy at the market, right? He doesn’t see that backfiring.

“Magic use is very strictly regulated, of course.” The mayor looks at Taako like she can read his mind. Or at least draw conclusions based off Taako’s pointed hat and the expression on his face. “Vegetables are judged on their size, weight, and, of course, their taste. Are you interested in entering?”

Magnus, Taako, and Lup are all attempting non-verbal communication about the possibility that they can outwit the judges and their magic detection methods when Merle steps forward.

“Sign me the fuck up,” he says, slapping a hand down on the table.

“Well, okay,” says the mayor, reaching for a clipboard with a signup sheet on it. “There’s no need to swear.”

“Maybe you should sign up too, Taako,” Magnus says, while Merle signs his name on the sheet. “You know, just in case.”

“Have some faith in me, boys,” Merle says, handing the clipboard back. “Lup believes in me.”

Lup cocks her head, looking down at Merle for a moment. She spares Taako a glance and then looks at Magnus again. “I mean, Taako’s not going to spend three months playing in the dirt.”

Taako considers this briefly, then shrugs. “Yeah, fair.”

“Okay, Merle. We believe in you.” Magnus pats him on the shoulder. “Please don’t fuck your entry.”

The mayor seems very relieved to be rid of them when they leave her office.

The crew sets up house in a little farmhouse with just enough land to park the Starblaster. They’re not planning on cultivating much of crop. Merle just needs a small garden to fast track his contest entry in.

Merle’s in the garden for hours every day. He runs his hands over the ground and leans down to whisper to it, sometimes to sing. Taako stays the fuck away from the garden whenever possible. When he can’t stay away, he mourns the fact that the garden is _right_ next to the kitchen and keeps the windows firmly closed. He plays music cranked up on _high_ while he cooks.

Taako’s a wizard and chef, not a gardener, so it takes him a while to figure out what Merle’s actually growing. A full two months, if he’s honest, since he spends his time actively avoiding the garden. When the greens topping Merle’s vegetable start poking up high enough for him to spot through the kitchen window, Taako goes to check them out.

“You’re growing _turnips_?” Taako stares at the greens in horror as Merle lovingly pets one of the monstrosities he’s betting the light on.

“The perfect vegetable for this,” Merle says. “They’ll stay sweet even when they’re big. They’ll knock the judges right off their feet.”

The turnips were already bigger than any turnip Taako had encountered in the wild—if various farmer’s markets and grocery stores across several planes of existence counted as the wild. He made a face. “I guess we don’t really have a choice. We don’t have enough time.”

“Don’t listen to the elf, baby,” Merle murmurs, leaning close to his turnips. “You’re beautiful. He’s just jealous of our love.”

Taako shudders and retreats to the kitchen.

When the day of the fête comes, Merle tears up as they dig his turnips out of the ground. They take the biggest, heaviest turnip Taako’s ever seen to the center of the village, levitating it behind them as they walk down the road. It’s the same size as Merle and weighs almost as much.

Taako’s sure they’re going to win the light until they get to the fête and it becomes clear that Merle’s not the only one around with a green thumb. There are a fuckton of enormous vegetables in the running: asparagus as long and thick as Taako’s arm; carrots the size of his legs; a zucchini that looks more Barry-sized than Merle-sized.

“Holy shit,” Magnus says, staring at the other vegetables. “Merle…”

“My baby’s got this,” Merle says, reaching up to pat the turnip’s side. “A zucchini. What is this, amateur hour?”

Watching the vegetable judging is surprisingly riveting. There’s a fist fight over whether or not the entrant with a giant tomato should even _be_ there. It’s fucking brilliant. Taako’s never seen people care so much about something that matters so little.

He eats leftovers from the pie competition and watches as Merle’s turnip is measured, weighed, tested for magic—the carrots turn out to be enlarged—and then, finally, sliced into for tasting. The competition is down to Merle and the old man responsible for the zucchini by then. The whole village gathers as the judges each stick a toothpick in a piece of turnip. The air is thick with anticipation and a certain amount of smugness—the villagers are waiting for the interlopers to be told their last minute entry doesn’t pass muster.

None of them expect Merle.

“Pan bless,” the mayor says, after trying the turnip. “Now that’s a gods damned turnip.”

They take home the light and a sash proclaiming Merle Farmer of the Year.

Taako spends the remaining months on the plane figuring out what the fuck to do with hundreds of pounds of turnip.

 

 

 

It’s damp and cold and Taako walks around layered up like a wedding cake. He’s got at least two sweaters on at all times, even aboard the Starblaster. Something about this plane’s omnipresent overcast sky and near-constant drizzle makes the cold penetrate the walls of the ship even worse than when they were on the ice world. There are plenty of cities and places to go on this plane. It’s got a big population and nearly everyone they meet is friendly—or as friendly as any average stranger. Nobody’s tries to kill them or accused them or being demons so far, which, for them, is pretty good.

It’s still one of Taako’s least favourite worlds yet. The _greyness_ of it eats away at everyone’s brains, makes Taako feel lethargic and sad and irritable. Plus, someone _always_ has a cold.

Five out of seven times, that someone is Barry.

Barry’s a nerd with a weak constitution. He’s never in danger, never deathly ill, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he’s going through cycles with his sickness. He’ll catch a cold, sniffle his way through a couple boxes of tissues, and get better for a little while. Until the chill in the air gets to him, then he’s right back to sneezing and blowing his nose all over the ship and making Taako’s skin crawl again.

“It feels like we’re just passing the same cold back and forth,” Lucretia says, tilting her head back so she can see Taako in the kitchen from her spot, perched in an armchair watching Barry sleep. She’s sipping lemon tea while Barry huddles under a thick stack of blankets on the couch. “Barry infects one of us and gets better, then we give it back to him and the cycle continues.”

“He better not give me that fucking cold again, if that’s true,” Taako says, pointing his knife at Lucretia. His nose is still sore from all the tissues rubbing against it. “I’ll get Davenport to fly over the ocean and toss him off. He can join us next year when he’s not trying to destroy us all.”

On the couch, under his pile of blankets, Barry groans, evidently not as asleep as they’d assumed. “I wish you’d all just kill me,” he says. “This is _worst_. Do you think they have fantasy instant ramen here? That’s what I used to eat when I got sick. I need ramen.”

Taako makes a disgusted noise and puts down his knife. “No,” he says.

Barry sits up so he can prop his chin on the back of the couch and look at Taako in the kitchen, quizzical. “No?”

“No,” Taako repeats, and immediately starts reevaluating today’s menu, even though he’s only meant to be making lunch.

Taako makes quickie grilled cheese, throws a plate of sandwiches on the coffee table for people to help themselves too, and starts dinner.

It’s not hard, but it requires time. He chucks his broth ingredients into a pot, covers it, and leaves it simmering for hours while he chills in his room, far away from Barry’s germs.

The smell of the broth simmering permeates the Starblaster. By the time Taako emerges from his bedroom to make the actual soup, most of the crew has gathered hopefully around Barry, sniffing the air.

“Are you making Auntie’s chicken noodle soup?” Lup asks. “We haven’t had that in _years_.”

Taako grins and gets the chicken breasts from the fridge so he can add them to the broth while he preps the veggies. “With my own twist, natch. Barold is sick so I’m curing him. Taako’s magic soup.”

There’s still about an hour until the soup is ready to eat, but everyone sticks close, watching Taako work.

He puts on a show. Some of his ingredients need transmuting anyway, so he does it with an extra flourish, changes the spaghetti to fat strands of fettuccine, then shrinks them down to thin little egg noodles. He doesn’t bothering looking down at the cutting board as he dices his veggies, winking at Lucretia when she winces every time his knife flashes a little too close to his fingers for her comfort. It’s fun—a distraction from the cold misery that’s settled in their bones.

Taako’s final sprinkling of parsley is carried out via mage hand, falling into the pot as he stirs. He tastes the soup one last time, to make sure it’s perfect, and then raises his arms at his sides and bows.

The crew breaks into applause. Lup laughs as she hops up to start ferrying bowls over to everyone else. “Show off. How many spell slots did you just burn?”

Taako waves a hand dismissively. “What else am I going to do with them? Fight the rain?”

He helps tote bowls to the couch, then sits beside Barry after Barry hauls himself upright to eat.

Taako watches expectantly as he takes the first sip.

“Shit,” Barry says, and Taako grins. “ _Shit_. That’s way better than instant ramen.”

Taako buffs his nails on his sweater. “I know,” he says. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” Barry takes another sip and smiles. “I feel better already.”

Barry does get better, after that. Taako gets sick, probably from hanging out with Barry on the couch, but there’s enough leftover soup in the freezer to get him through the worst of it, and Barry doesn’t catch another cold all year.

 

 

 

When they settle in Nanp, the capital city of a militaristic kingdom they think has a hold of the light of creation, the showmanship Taako’s been cultivating gets him in trouble.

Davenport brings Taako along to negotiate with the king and his advisors and Taako cooks for them.

The king loves Taako’s cooking. The king loves the show. The king invites Taako to stay at the palace, after dinner, and then refuses to let Taako leave when Taako tries to blow him off. Davenport is dragged out of the palace by four guards, spitting mad.

Taako’s treated well, for a prisoner. He gets a lavish suite of rooms and a full wardrobe in the height of Nanpian fashion, all silks and lush velvets, gilded jewellry and shoes made of supple, buttery leather. He has servants at his beck and call all hours of the day. If the doors to his rooms didn’t lock from the outside and there weren’t bars on the window, it wouldn’t be a bad gig. Taako tries to blink out of the room, the first day, and runs headfirst into the anti-magic field around his room. He’s completely drained for days after, and suitably convinced not to try that particular escape route again.

Taako’s kept in a tower, several stories up, like a fucking princess.

Magnus and Lup once spent six months locked in an actual dungeon, before getting executed, so Taako feels a little bad about the way the tower room gets to him, but it’s driving him _stir crazy_. He doesn’t even get out to cook everyday. His food is a special treat. He’s sometimes brought before the court to put on a show and make sweets—macarons, naturally, in a wild variety of flavours and colours; eclairs filled with creamy custard and tart curds; a towering croquembouche—and to council meetings to be the mid-meeting entertainment as he prepares their lunch. Most often though, he’s dragged from his rooms for a private show when the king is dining alone and wants company.

It’s been four months before Taako, bored and cranky, repeats a meal. Taako cooks Davenport’s favourite, his seafood linguine, because it’s familiar and heavy and comforting. At night, locked in his tower, Taako physically aches with how much he misses his sister and the Starblaster crew—his family.

The king frowns when Taako deposits the plated pasta in front of him.

“You’ve made this before,” he says, prodding it with a fork.

Taako has long since said ‘fuck it’ to pretending to stand on ceremony with the king. He sits opposite him, pulling his own plate of pasta closer. “Yeah, and you liked it,” he says. “Dig in, thug.”

The king pushes his plate away. “Have you run out of recipes already?” he asks. “You were so entertaining.”

Taako’s been on the run from a giant vore monster for decades and lived rough before that. He knows how to sense a situation going bad. He sits back, slowly. “You want something else? I can make something else.”

“I want something _new_ ,” the king says. “When you’re a man like me, with all the power and influence you could ever want, it’s hard to find something… worthwhile. Something exciting.” The king looks Taako over, the expression on his face disappointed, like Taako was a pet who’d made a mess on the floor while he was away. “You seemed like you’d last longer than this.”

Taako waves a hand over their plates. The creamy sauce on their pasta turns red, gains spice. The seafood stays the same, but the pasta changes too, stretches out and goes thinner, until it’s spindly angel hair, curled up in little nests.

“Next time, I’ll make you something else,” he says. “Will this hold you over for now or what?”

The king knocks both their plates off the table, smashing them on the stone floor. It’s a pretty definitive answer.

Taako is dragged back to his room without dinner. Nobody answers when he tries ringing the bell for a maid.

Days pass. Taako’s stomach begins to ache and still no one answers the bell. He drinks from the taps in the bathroom, tries to fill the hollow in his belly with water. After a week and a half with no visitors and no food, the hunger gnaws at him. Food is all he can think about.

He and Lup had lean times during their childhood, times when they went hungry and scraped in the back alleys of big cities for salvageable things to eat, but it’s been a long time since Taako felt this way. He’s had years and years of being more or less well-fed, decades of not having to fight to feed himself.

He’s out of practice with hunger.

Taako lies on the couch in his suite and meditates, because it helps him feels the hunger less keenly, even if his meditative mind inveritably drifts to thoughts of food.

It’s been two weeks and three days with nothing to eat when the door opens and a guard steps into the room holding something in his hands.

It takes Taako, dazed from starvation, a long moment to realize that the guard is Magnus and the thing in his hands is bundled up clothing—a servant’s uniform, not the silken costumes the king kept his pet wizard in.

A slow grin spreads across Taako’s face. “Well, hey there, big fella. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Magnus doesn’t smile back. His expression is one of concern and fear as he kneels beside the couch. “Taako, are you okay?”

“Little hungry,” Taako says. “Please tell me you’re here to stage a daring rescue.”

Magnus drops the bundle he’s holding onto the floor and fumbles with it for a moment, out of Taako’s line of sight, then holds up half a loaf of bread.

Taako’s ears perk up.

“Fuck yes, homie.” He pushes himself upright and snatches the bread from Magnus’s hands, bringing it to his mouth and taking a massive bite. He barely lets himself chew before he swallows and goes for a second mouthful. He’s _starving_ and the first couple bites of bread are the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Midway through the third bite, Taako leans over the side of the couch and the bread comes right back up, along with all the water he’d forced himself to drink that day.

“Gross.” Magnus makes a face and shifts to the side, away from the mess. “Okay, let’s slow down on the bread, maybe,” he says, prying it out of Taako’s grasp.

Taako whimpers when the bread leaves him.

Magnus puts a hand on the back of Taako’s neck and lifts, helps get him upright.

The world swims in front of Taako’s eyes, narrowing into nothingness as his vision blacks out and the sound of Magnus muttering—something, something about getting him changed, maybe?—is drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

Taako reaches up and plants a steadying hand on Magnus’s shoulder, breathing through a wave of vertigo and nausea. “Fuck,” he says, voice hoarse. “That was rough. Let’s be gentle with ol’ Taako, okay?”

“You’ve got to walk out of here on your own,” Magnus says, wrestling Taako’s shirt off. “I can’t carry you or someone will notice. We need to be discrete or we’ll both end up locked in here.”

Taako hums in acknowledgement, letting himself be gently manhandled into a stiff, grey dress. Magnus fumbles with a hair cover for a moment, then settles for plopping it over Taako’s head, where it at least sort of covers his greasy hair in its untidy braid.

Taako’s still wearing a pair of loose, silk pajama pants under the dress. He’s only got slippers on his feet, and he won’t pass muster as a maid if anyone pays too much attention to him, but Magnus nods like the relatively feeble disguise is enough.

“Okay,” he says, sitting beside Taako again. He tears off a small chunk of bread and holds it to Taako’s lips. “Slow. Lup’ll kill me if I don’t get you out.”

Taako eats the little piece of bread and then opens his mouth for more like a baby bird. Magnus makes him wait, makes sure Taako’s not going to be sick again, before feeding him another piece.

“What took you so long?” Taako asks, when he’s had three pieces of bread and is feeling more sure of his ability to speak and actually absorb what Magnus says.

“I got a job as a guard after you got taken.” Magnus feeds him another bread cube. “Lots of training. Shitty postings. It took a while before I could get close to the tower without being told to fuck off right away. I shouldn’t be here now, but I overheard my superiors talking about how the king was starving his new wizard to death. You think you can walk?”

Taako reaches over for the water jug on the table and takes a large gulp. “If my other option is starving to death then I’m ready to fucking fly.”

Magnus grins and helps Taako get to his feet. He’s unsteady and the whole world tilts again, but he’s able to stay upright as long as he keeps clutching Magnus’s arm. Taako breathes deep, focuses all his attention on not letting his knees buckle.

“Okay,” he says, after a moment. “Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Magnus leads Taako out of the room. The guards outside are unconscious and tied up, gagged with their socks. Taako smirks as they move past them, down the hallway, to the top of a steep set of spiral steps.

He and Magnus look at the stairs, then exchange a glance. There’s no way Taako’s making it down them in one piece, not on his own.

“Well, we tried being subtle,” Magnus says. “Now I get to do things the Magnus way.” Magnus scoops Taako into his arms and starts jogging down the steps.

Taako grasps the front of Magnus’s guard uniform and squeezes his eyes shut. “If you trip or drop me and I die, Lup is going to levitate you into the clouds and drop into the ocean,” he says, trying not to think about how the world feels like it’s swimming around him.

Magnus lets out a short, loud laugh before getting control of himself. “If I drop you, I promise to let her.”

Stealth isn’t Magnus’s strong suit, especially not when he’s carrying a poorly disguises elf in his arms. They end up running from a hoard of palace guards, Taako flung over Magnus’s shoulder in a firefighter’s carry as Magnus races to get them out of the palace before the drawbridge goes up.

They almost make it. Magnus scrambles partway up the rough wood as its surface gets increasingly vertical, but slides back down. He shouts something Taako doesn’t quite register, because Taako’s upside down and fighting to stay conscious after all the bouncing, but suddenly Magnus is hauling Taako into his arms and crouching against a stone wall, ducking Taako’s head down so his nose is pressed uncomfortably against Magnus’s scratchy uniform jacket.

Taako just has time to think it’s a stupid way to prepare for a fight before the drawbridge blasts open, chunks of flaming wood scattering around the yard and taking out several of the guards. Lup is there, then, magnificent in her fury and alight with fire. Magnus laughs, scooping Taako into a bridal hold this time, as he stands.

Taako’s eyes meet his sister’s and Lup takes a moment from scorching the fuck out of a troop of guards to tilt her head to the side in a silent question: is he okay?

Taako just has time to flash her a thumbs up before he finally loses the battle he’s been fighting since Magnus sat him upright and passes out.

He learns, later, as Lucretia feeds him warm soup, sweet tea, and more delicious, delicious bread, that Magnus and Lup’s rescue mission was impromptu and entirely unapproved. The crew had to scramble to get onboard the Starblaster when Lup and Magnus came running, Taako limp in Magnus’s arms, pursued by the king’s guard on horseback. It’s killed any chance they have of getting the light this year.

Taako finds it very hard to care about this particular world being consumed by the Hunger.

When he’s well enough, after Davenport lands the ship on another continent entirely, Taako spends several days in the kitchen to come up with the best fucking thing he can think of as a thank you for Magnus.

 

 

 

During a particularly quiet year, Taako decides to challenge himself. He knows how to craft powerful magical artifacts. He’s been hopping planes for a long ass time. He’s not sure why it’s taken him so long to get bored enough to try producing his own moonshine.

Taako takes a potato and he plays with it until he figures out how to take it directly from potato to vodka. Then he gets the whole crew drunk on transmuted liquor, dishing it out in a series of increasingly strong, increasingly experimental drinks.

After the first hour, Merle is dancing on the coffee table. Davenport and Magnus are a giggling mess in the corner, while Barry babbles affectionately into Lup’s shoulder as he hangs off her. Two hours in, Barry is asleep on the couch—his head on Magnus’s shoulder this time—and Merle and Davenport are deep in a conversation about a song from their home world no one else in the crew remembers. Lup, Taako, and Lucretia are the only ones still drinking.

Lup lights a row of shot glasses—filled with the strongest stuff Taako can transmute and a viscous elderflower liqueur that is a local favourite—on fire. Taako and Lucretia cheer and then all thre of them take a glass, counting down from three before blowing out the flames before downing them fast.

The liqueur is popular here, but it tastes disgusting. It’s heavily perfumed and thick like medicine. It coats their throats all the way down and sits heavy in their stomachs.

Taako sways on his feet after the shot, only really staying upright because he can lean on the counter for support.

“Did you know,” Lucretia says, suddenly, with the careful enunciation of the very, very drunk. “Did you know it’s your birthday?”

Lup and Taako blink at her, then look at each other, squinting as they try to work out if that’s true and, if so, how old it makes them.

“Shit,” Lup says. “Shit, Taako. It’s our _birthday_.”

Taako is still focused on trying to do math about their age when his brain suddenly grinds to a halt, eyes going wide. “Fucking—fucking _cake_ , Lulu! I didn’t cake—cake make!”

Lucretia snickers and reaches for the gross flower liqueur again, pouring a straight shot of it into her empty glass. She knocks it back without shuddering because Lucretia’s made of sterner stuff than the rest of them combined. “Cake make.”

Taako’s ears droop because the lack of birthday cake is suddenly _devastating_ . “I want _cake_ ,” he whines. “Why didn’t I make a cake?”

“Aw, Ko!” Lup throws her arms around his neck, presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “You can make a cake next year. It’s okay.” Lup reaches back and takes the liqueur bottle from Lucretia—who whines in protest—and presses it into Taako’s hands. “Drink s’more and it’ll all be better.”

“I might die before our birthday next year! I need fucking… I need cake _now_ ,” Taako says, as his hands close around the bottle being thrust at him.

It turns to cake in his hands. The bottle fattens up and stretches out, until suddenly instead of gripping its neck, Taako has his fingers buried in the sides of a four-layer, chocolate frosted, vanilla confetti cake.

The cake hovers in place only briefly—just long enough for Taako to register the cake in his hands with some surprise—before it falls and splatters on the floor.

Taako, Lup, and Lucretia stare down at the cake mess on the floor for maybe half a second before they lose it, breaking down into hysterics as they slide to the ground. Their laughter has Merle and Davenport eying them with amused indulgence, like the crew-dads they are, and rouses a very confused Magnus and Barry from their slumber. It leaves the three of them too breathless to explain why they’re sitting in cake or why Taako’s smearing icing onto Lup and Lucretia’s faces like a naughty toddler. The hangovers the next day are _completely_ worth it.

 

 

 

Lup’s been missing for weeks. Taako and Barry’s lives become searching for her. It consumes every spare moment they have. They pour all their energy into it. And nothing.

If Lup died, when she left, she’d be back. Taako is sure of it. Death isn’t permanent for her the way it would be for him. Her physical body doesn’t really matter. It would suck, yeah, if she was in lich form already. This is supposed to be their home now. Their final stop.

Lup should be home by now, but she’s not.

Taako’s irritable and short-tempered. He keeps snapping at Merle’s attempts to lighten the mood and Davenport’s manly shoulder pats and Magnus’s careful sympathy. Right now, Taako likes Barry and Taako likes Lucretia and that’s the end of the list.

Barry loves Lup too. He knows how Taako hurts. And Lucretia is just—easy to talk to. She doesn’t pretend like she gets how Taako feels, doesn’t push him to act like he doesn’t care, doesn’t give him false hope.

She _does_ give him concrete tasks, things to focus on when he can’t look for Lup. Distractions.

Tonight, it’s a meal request. Her favourites—a low country boil like he served them decades ago, during the beach year, and a crisp cabbage salad he picked up from one of his devotees at the Legato Conservatory.

Lucretia stays in the kitchen and watches him cook. She doesn’t say much, just sits at the counter and passes him ingredients when he asks for them. They don’t have the dried cranberries he needs for the salad, so he transmutes them from raisins.

Lucretia hates raisins.

“Really?” Lucretia cracks open a bottle of red wine and pours them both a hefty glass. “I’m sitting right here, Taako. You won’t even pretend for me?”

He flashes her a weak smile and scoops his drink off the counter. “It’s bizarre that you like dried cranberries but not dried grapes. You know that, right?”

“I’m insulted you’re technically making me eat them.” Lucretia smiles as she takes a sip of her wine. “Thank you for doing this, Taako.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He turns back to the stove to check how the boil is going. “Your favourites are easy, Luce. Thank you, you know? For the request. It’s good to be—it’s good to have a distraction.”

Ever since the Judges and Lucretia’s year alone, there’s a layer of steel to her, a conviction driving her to take care of the rest of them—to _protect_ them—that Taako sometimes thinks is even stronger than Magnus’s drive to keep them safe.

Taako stirs the pot to make sure nothing’s sticking and tests the doneness of a potato with the tip of his knife. They lapse into comfortable silence for a while, drinking wine and picking at the salad while steam rolls off the pot and warms the room.

Lucretia breaks the silence. “I love you, Taako. You know that, right?”

Taako turns to look at her. Her expression is terribly, terribly sad. He sets his wineglass down, frowning, and reaches out to tug her into a loose hug. Taako’s not big on touching, not big on gestures like this with anyone but Lup and sometimes Barry.

Magnus, who springs hugs on people, doesn’t really count. It’s hard _not_ to be physically affectionate with him.

But Taako’s been so busy worrying about Lup he’s forgotten to be concerned about anyone else. He can make an exception for one of the few people around he isn’t annoyed with right now. “Of course,” he says. “Don’t worry, I know.”

 

 

 

The first time Taako transmutes anything, it’s a surprise. He’s in the middle of a show when he realizes he’s run out of garlic. His audiences have already started dwindling. Free food and a bit of humour are okay for a while, but even new recipes don’t keep the crowds coming. His mind is racing and he’s reaching for the next ingredient on the list, a lemon, wishing he wasn’t so stupid he forgot basic things when restocking his wagon.

“Sometimes you won’t have everything you need on hand,” Taako says, flashing the crowd a smile. How the _fuck_ is he supposed to make garlic chicken without garlic? “A good cook knows that when that happens, you make do. You get creative.”

In his hand, the lemon changes into a bulb of garlic.

Taako is so startled he nearly drops it. The crowd erupts into applause, suddenly paying more attention to what’s happening on stage.

Taako has no fucking clue how he changed the lemon, but he’s going with it. He won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Of course, it helps if you’ve got the magic touch,” he adds, and winks as he tosses the bulb into the air and catches it on its way down.

The crowd eats the magic shit up. After he collects money from the audience, he heads to the nearest bookstore—not a place he’d normally spend his earnings—and flips through their magic books until he finds one that talks about transmutation. Something about the spells he sees when he flips through the pages feels right. He’s still got no idea how he transmuted the lemon, but with this book he can figure out a way to do it on purpose. Taako’s been scraping by on his own his whole life—he’s good at fending for himself.

When Taako adds magic to _Sizzle It Up! with Taako_ , the show takes off. Suddenly he can book gigs in cities like Neverwinter. He draws a crowd wherever he goes. People recognize him in the street and ask for his autograph, want to buy things with his face on them. Plus, the addition of transmutation magic means his overhead decreases. Expensive ingredients can just be transmuted. It’s the perfect racket.

He explains this to Sazed, when his new assistant actually _buys_ duck rather than getting his hands on a few extra chickens. Sazed appreciates the tip. He doesn’t have any magical abilities himself, but it’s obvious he hangs on Taako’s every word. Taako loves it. He loves having an assistant. He loves the attention he’s getting. He loves his show and his career.

Taako tells Sazed he keeps his recipes in his head because a real chef doesn’t need to write anything down; they _feel_ what’s right for the dish. It’s all intuition and instinct.

At night, when Sazed is asleep, Taako takes out a notepad and experiments. There are so many recipes that feel like they’re  swimming just out of his reach, so many things that feel _almost_ right. He scrawls them out again and again, tries to perfect them for his audience.

If sometimes he cooks and the transmuted food tastes like nothing in his mouth, if sometimes his magic malfunctions and seems to seethe beneath his skin, stronger and more insistent than it has any right to be, if—for reasons he doesn’t understand—every piece of meat he transmutes really _wants_ to be turkey, Taako tries to push it out of his mind. He tells himself it’s not important. Like when Sazed starts pushing for a bigger role in the show. Like when Sazed starts making snarky comments under his breath when he thinks Taako can’t hear them. None of it is important. Not in the face of his overwhelming success.

Why look a gift horse in the mouth when everything is going so well?

 

 

Taako burns his notes. Every recipe he ever wrote down. Sheet by sheet at first, for warmth, and then, in a moment of anger, the whole thing all at once. He finds a town far from Glamor Springs and starts looking for work.

 

 

Taako hasn’t done Candlenights in a long time. He used to do some _Sizzle it Up!_ shows leading up to the holiday where he’d show people how to make and decorate elegant holiday cookies, but even then he didn’t really celebrate himself. Why would he when he didn’t have people to celebrate with?

Now that he’s at the Bureau, it feels different. Magnus is clearly a Candlenights kind of guy, even if Merle doesn’t seem too bothered by it. Magnus has already invited people to a _party_ in their apartment. Taako doesn’t know how he feels about that, but it’s too late to object now and he’s going to have to have something on hand to give out to their guests.

Cookies, maybe.

Taako wanders around Fantasy Costco and tries to figure out how he really, honestly feels about baking for people at the Bureau. He doesn’t like cooking anymore, especially not for people who… matter, more than most people do. People who are more than dust in the rearview mirror of Taako’s road trip through life. He’s got a sweet gig with the Bureau and, as much as it pains him to admit it, he kind of needs the chucklefucks who’ve latched on to him.

So. Candlenights.

Taako’s wandering through the booze section, contemplating just buying a bottle of something and getting everyone drunk as a present when his eyes snag on a bottle of elderflower liqueur. Something about it, the sweet, floral taste he knows it’ll have, digs its hooks into his brain and won’t let go. Taako picks up the bottle and turns it over in his hands, considering. In mixed drinks it would be nice. Some Fantasy Grey Goose and cucumber, maybe. A bit of lime.

Taako kind of wants to bake, though. Stretch skills he’s worried are atrophying while he focuses on adventuring. He wants to turn the liqueur into something sweet. Cupcakes are too basic though. Taako doesn’t do basic.

Inspiration strikes, all at once—macarons.

 

 

 

Lup has her body back and a deal with the Raven Queen that means she gets to keep it. She tackles Barry and Taako, naked and slimy from Barry’s weird cloning pod. Taako throws a towel in her face and then hugs her back with equal fierceness as she laughs and tries to wrap it around herself. Lup having a physical presence again is the first time everything’s felt _right_ in a long time. Her lich form is fine, but it’s not until Lup is someone he can touch that Taako realizes how much he missed her poking and prodding him, her arm slung around his shoulders.

Barry and Lup start making out as soon as Taako extracts himself from the three-way hug, which is something Taako didn’t miss seeing, but he’s happy for them.

In celebration of having a body again, Lup demands a party.

“A rebirth day party!” she says, grinning. “Come on. It’s the last one of these I’m going to have. Skeletor’s mama bird says no more second chances for me and Barry.”

Beside Taako, Kravitz rubs his temples. “I don’t—I don’t know how to make you understand that you shouldn’t call the Raven Queen mama bird.”

Taako gives Kravitz’s free hand an absentminded pat. “You’re not going to change your birthday on me, are you?” he asks Lup. “Because I haven’t done anything for mine in, like, a hundred years. You _bet_ it’s going to be a bash this year.”

“Fuck no. What I’m saying, Taako, is _two_ parties are better than one.”

Taako can’t fault that logic, and honestly indulging Lup with a feast is the _least_ of the things Taako would do for his sister.

Taako gets his hands on the freshest ingredients: produce made perfect by a few whispered words from Merle; a turkey procured from a free-range farm by Magnus, who came across it walking his dog; spices from all over Faerun, gathered by Davenport on his exploratory journeys across the continent.

Nothing is transmuted.

He builds a menu based on over a century of memories, of lives together. Taako once planned the perfect day for Lup. This time, he plans the perfect meal.

Nearly perfect. She insists on full control of the guest list and it includes Lucretia.

If it were anyone else, anyone but Lup, Taako wouldn’t accept it. He would throw a fucking fit and refuse to cook a thing, refuse to lift a finger until Lup promised Lucretia wouldn’t be there.

But it _is_ Lup, and he loves her. She’s forgiven Lucretia, even if Taako doesn’t think he ever will, doesn’t really understand how everyone else can, so Lucretia gets invited and he keeps his mouth shut.

Taako cooks the meal with Lup at his side, helping when she can, and Barry doing his best when they allow him to help. Kravitz, wisely, refrains from offering anything but encouragement. By the time they finish, they’ve prepared a feast in Lup’s honour and finished off a bottle and a half of wine between the four of them.

Lup is practically glowing, seated at the head of the table with her entire family gathered around her. She starts eating before Taako’s even finished carrying everything into the dining room. She stabs her fork into a slice of turkey and stuffs it into her mouth, groaning, practically swallowing it whole.

Barry laughs. “Babe, don’t make yourself sick.”

“I will if I want to.” Lup grins back at him. “It’s _my_ party.”

“Trust me, not worth it,” Taako says, as he totes food to the table. “This is one case where Taako’s _not_ on team instant gratification.”

Taako sets the very last thing, a crisp cabbage salad studded with a mixture of dried cranberries and raisins, in front of Lucretia. He doesn’t look at her as he makes his way back towards the head of the table, to the spot waiting for him between Angus and Kravitz.

There are two notebooks sitting on his chair. One is empty and new. The other is familiar and worn. Taako picks them up as he sits, flips the old one open to run his fingers over the food stained pages inside, the evolving recipes and careful notes accumulated over decades.

The book is heavy in his hand.

Taako tucks it away, slides it and the blank notebook under his thighs for safekeeping, for now, and reaches for his wineglass. He takes a long pull and glances down the table to where Lucretia sits, her plate empty as she watches him. Taako raises his glass, almost imperceptibly. He turns away from her, leaning against the cool, grounding presence of Kravitz at his side, and focuses on Angus beside him, nattering about his new school.

At the other end of the table, Lucretia serves herself salad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> tumblr: [@marywhal](http://marywhal.tumblr.com)


End file.
